Burdens Among Us
by mishatippins
Summary: Castiel has nothing left. Having been human and alone for so long he decides to take his own life when he's saved by a forgotten friend. Rated M for language and Sex as well as triggering content.
1. Let Me Bleed

**_Finally getting around to editing Burden (again), but I have faith this time around and will be fixing it up._**

* * *

_It was finally over. His worthless existence, his lost cause, hos long, depressing pain he'd been stuck with for so long. And he rejoiced because of it for the first time in years. Happiness filled his body for the first time as he tied the rope around his ceiling fan, pulling the finished loop over his neck. He stood on his toes in the desk chair, swaying slightly but he found strength in the thought of his end. No one would mind if he was gone anyway. Heaven was in shambles, Sam and Dean were dead, and his purpose was gone._

_Hell didn't seem like such a bad place. Surely it was where he was destined. It was his fault. Everything was his fault._

_And so with a final look at his feet he took in one last breath, and kicked the stool out from under him, he struggled at first, but forcefully relaxed as his lungs pleaded for air. He thought about her, about her demon snark and her beautiful thorny power that once touched him as intimately as her lips. He found himself smiling. What was that thing she said? "We're going to Heaven…"_

"Clarence!" as black blossomed over his vision, he heard a familiar voice crying out. It was probably Leena, here to collect rent, only to find her tenant hanging from the ceiling fan. But her voice was different. Her voice was…beautiful.

The next thing Castiel knew was that he was on the floor, the restraint of the rope around his neck gone and air flying into his lungs. As his vision slowly returned, he saw a woman's face shaking him.

"God damnit Castiel!" His real name. No one knew his angelic name, he's been living under some made up alias for sometime that it always was foreign to hear his old name.

It took him some time before her face cleared in the light. "Meg?" he rasped.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

He didn't have an answer, and to be honest he wasn't sure if she would believe anything he'd say. So instead he stared up at that face he was never able to save, the one demon he trusted and lost. The lover and his forgotten friend. "Meg."

"Yeah."

"You're alive?."

"It wasn't easy," she was helping him up, concern evident in her meatsuit's brown eyes. "What the hell were you thinking? Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"How did you know where I was?" he asked instead, changing the subject.

"That's not important," she muttered, glancing around his small apartment. "What, already give your stuff away?"

"There was nothing to give, and no one to give it to."

Meg grunted, standing up from her crouch. Cas looked like hell, thinner than he used to be. His brown hair was also graying, which made him look older, and frankly look even more broken. Then again, Castiel was already _old_, having had been around for thousands of years until his entire world seemed to collapse. But his appearance shocked her. And then it hit her. _His vessel shouldn't age._..

"You're human."

He shrugged, not even bothering to acknowledge her surprise. _A lot of things can happen when you spend fifteen years in your own hell._ Castiel rummaged around his small living room, picking up his cut rope and undoing the knots.

"What are you gonna do with that," she muttered, pointing at the rope

"It's for me," he replied, using his teeth to get out the fifth coil. "I'm tired, Meg. I'm useless, and I just want it to be over.

She sighed, snatching the rope from him and tossing it. _Fucking idiot_. "I didn't claw my ass outta hell just to see you up and kill yourself. Look at you, Cas! You look like a fucking elephant sat on you! You think your life is so bad because you don't have wings anymore? Well tough, because I'm not letting you kill yourself."

He looked from his empty hands to her face. "You're serious."

"Damn straight. Look," he kneeled beside him again, running a hand though his hair so that she could yank his head to the side so that she could look him over. His neck was bruised, which triggered something inside her. Something that made her protective and disgustingly sympathetic. "I just got outta hell, and I'm hungry. You look like you haven't eaten in days. Let's get you something to eat, people have to eat."

* * *

She managed to get him to his feet and walk him over to the little dinner table just outside the kitchen. His bruises on his neck were getting worse, turning an ugly shade of purple and green. He also walked with a slight limp, his muscles probably aching from little-to-no use over the past few days.

When she got him over to the tiny table he just sat there staring at her, as if he hated her for saving his life. _You're welcome, Dickhead_, she thought to herself as she rummaged his cabinets. Cat food and tuna.

"You have a cat?" she asked him, watching his head roll from her to the table.

"Had one. Just like everything else. Dead."

"Fun."

She set the tuna can into the old, rusted can opener, the smell attacking her nose as she dug into his drawers, pulling out a plastic spoon.

"Eat," she ordered, setting it down in front on him. "Or I'll shove it down your throat."

"Bitch," he replied, forking it into his mouth.

"Look, Cas, I don't want to play mommy. I came back hoping for an angel. What the hell happened to you?"

He looked up at her, spooning the fork in the fish meat. "You were gone, Sam and Dean were dead…I couldn't handle myself.

"I went to heaven to see them. The angels were rebuilding heaven. God even brought Gabriel and Balthazar home. But I wanted to see the Winchesters. They were my family.

"And I just…left."

She glared at him. "That's not all."

"No. I went mad. Ripped out my grace. Fell here."

He seemed so miserable, and Meg could relate, especially since she'd spent what felt like thousands of years in hell. Poor bastard.

"You need sleep."

"I don't want to sleep. It's like temporary death. Wonderful while it's happening until it ends."

"Finish your fucking food and get to sleep, Castiel. I wont ask twice."

"Fucking bitch," he hissed, almost throwing his chair out of his way before slamming the bedroom door.

"Great idea, go see the broken angel, keep him from capping himself. What a wonderful life you lead, Meg."

Wish a huff she left his mess on the table and threw herself on his couch, cursing herself for even going through this.

_It's gonna be a long, long year._


	2. Let Me Wake

_Two days ago_

She was awake in an instant. first she drifted through limbo, floating away in peaceful sleep.

And now she was gasping against cold asphalt, her hair tangled and her eyes wide.

_What…the fuck_.

"Naharra," a voice whispered, the Archangel Gabriel looking down at her with a cocked head.

"Don't…call me that," she wheezed, struggling to get up on her feet. "Don't ever…call me that."

"You are needed."

"Right, like you winged asshats need me. Cas surely didn't need me, you know, when he let me roll over and die. Which was not sexy," she turned away from him. "Thanks for the revival though."

"Look, bitch," Gabriel's tone shifted from soft to the egotistical rage he was famous for. "My little brother is gonna kill himself tomorrow. And I'm not allowed to interfere. Now he had a special…eh, thing for you. And you are the only one who can stop him."

"Just let him rot," she muttered with a tinge of anger. "Castiel is an angel-"

"Not anymore, sugarlips," Gabriel replied. "Summer O' 2013, everyone burned. No angels."

"But you-"

"God came back, but he's ambivalent towards Cas, see?" He paced around her for a bit before continuing. "Castiel is…compromised."

"He's human."

"Bingo."

"And you want me to-"

"To keep him from killing himself," he shifted slightly. "Believe it or not, some of us still care about family. Don't let him do this," Gabriel begged. "I need time before I can do what I need to. If he dies his soul is compromised.

"Meg, please."

—

Why did she ever agree to that?

Castiel was distant, and for some reason he seemed pissed at her for saving his life. Again.

_I just love the gratitude labeled out there for me._

"You were dead," he repeated again. "You were dead. Sam and Dean saw you die."

"Yeah, well, didn't take."

He had moved them over to his old couch when he finally decided to wake up. He didn't look that different, he was still in the same vessel, but his eyes were heavier, full of pain and heartache that started to weigh on Meg as well.

"How long?"

"Since I came back?"

He nodded.

"A month," she lied. "I got your place from that skinny asshole with the boat. You and the hunters must of…had a falling out."

"I left when the angels came back," he replied. "They didn't need me anymore."

Awkward silence hung between them. Meg fidgeted with her hands while Castiel leaned back on the small sofa, shutting his eyes.

"You know, killing yourself isn't the best way out of things, Clarence."

"It is preferred."

She swallowed, taking a shot. "You still going to be sweet on me?"

"I was always sweet on you."

"Good boy."

Silence made Meg uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to say something, only to have Castiel beat her.

"I assume you want to stay, since you can't…necessarily go anywhere."

She blinked. "You noticed?"

He stood up, heading over to the rotted closet door beside the bedroom. "Just because I'm human doesn't mean I'm stupid. I could sense it."

He fought the closet door open and grabbed a tattered comfort blanket, unfolding it as he threw it on the couch.

"Really, I have to sleep here?" She muttered when he started to turn for the bedroom.

"I prefer to be alone."

"Well, you gonna thank me?"

"Thank you, Meg, for continuing a life that should have ended."

She scoffed. "You're really playing that card Castiel? I came back for you!"

"I didn't ask you to!" Castiel's voice was rasped as he yelled at her, for the first time since they'd know each other. Rage was evident in his blue eyes, and the force and brutality of his words stung like poison. "I destroyed my home. I _murdered_ my own family, and I don't even get the luxury of death. And after everything I'm doomed to living with my guilt for how ever long this body lasts.

"You don't get it, Meg. _I don't want to be saved_."

Every tinge of sympathy she had for him vanished. "How dare you say that," she hissed. "You're a fucking dumbass, Castiel. There are people who still care about you. Who still love you. I still…"

"You still what,_ demon_?"

"Oh, you son of a bitch. Kill yourself then. Let everything you have tried to fix and anything that had tried to care about you wither away because you're too fucking afraid to…afraid to have a damn life! I've been human before, Castiel. I've been a demon. I fucking_ understand_. You're just to dumb to see it!"

She watched as anger fell from Castiel's face, the ex-angel blinking away from her.

"You loved me."

"I didn't love you I… moderately cared."

"Is that what Sam meant…by unicorn?"

She hated how his voice changed from anger to amusement; he was fucking enjoying this.

"I told him not to tell you."

"But he did. I didn't understand," he was looking her with the most pathetic face, and she found herself walking closer to him.

"Is that why you came back? Why you saved me?"

"You still have a fan club, Clarence. Call me the representor of that club."

He was looking down it her with new eyes, curiosity glinting as he kissed her, making her grunt in surprise that he had actually made the move before her. When he broke it off, he found himself staring at her.

She retaliated by grabbing his face, returning his kiss and then some, the both of them so into it that Castiel grabbed her and carried her into his small bedroom.

—

He found himself unable to sleep, even with Meg curled up against him, sleeping softly. How the whole thing happened; how sex seemed to follow them, Castiel was unsure. But the way it seemed to come naturally to them was amazing in his own right.

He had other women before. Even a male out of curiosity. But the way Meg made him feel was something special. It was something that grounded him, that made him comfortable and content,

It was something he hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

It happened to them several times beforehand, but every time those feelings would be torn from him and he was sure it would happen again and again. But this was different.

In fact, he was praying for it. Praying for some way to stop the pain.

Meg stirred in her slumber, something that made Castiel a bit uncomfortable as she stretched over him, her arms just falling over his thin hips and her face buried in his chest.

She had overlooked the burn scars that covered his abdomen, a result of a stupid decision he'd made as an angel that left him deformed and displaying a spray of pink raises and narrow cliffs that now adorned his skin.

_The reason I left the Men of Letters_._ Why I ripped out my grace._

He appreciated she didn't ask him on it, she more or less just gasped at the webbing of scars that adorned him, and then proceeded to distract him from her face.

_Ego sum angelus burnded._

_The burdened one_.

He let out a heavy sigh.

_What am I supposed to do?_

_Why did you give her back to me?_

Once again, he was unanswered. He was tired, upset, drained.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep, and for once no dreams came.


	3. Let Me Burn

She woke him up with sex and needy hands. She made him groan as small hands traced the curve of his spine, feeling the licks of scars that seemed to curl around his back and nails made contact with his ass.

He was lazy, rolling over slowly so that their lips made contact, a burning sensation that triggered something he's long thought he buried.

_Smoke, demons screaming._

_Dean calling out his name._

_Fire burning hot, fear dominating his mind._

_He was trapped behind the fire._

_He watched Sam die moments before, Dean collapsing and fire licking at Castiel's heels._

_Holy fire was burning him alive._

Reality hit him like a steel bat and he pushed Meg away, panicking when he saw his scars from the corner of his eye. Something frightening triggered inside him and he panicked. There was another instance later on when Meg was cooking that the fire made him almost destroy the tiny apartment.

She spent the rest of the day trying to keep him calm and yelling at him for being a fucking idiot. But she understood, strangely. He'd destroyed the tiny table he had shoved behind the kitchen counter and there was other debris from his meltdown that meg was still struggling to get up.

_If I'm gonna live in a shithole it's going to be a nice one_.

Picking up the rest of the dish fragments she looked over and watched him rock himself against the wall, trying to calm his tormented head and she was reminded of their time in the hospital, when his hallucinations of Lucifer become too much and he shut himself down, falling into his own induced coma and closing himself away from the world.

Only that time he woke up as someone with a new outlook on life.

"I'm sorry..." he muttered when she sat beside him, watching him try and collect himself. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry Imsorryimsorry..."

"Shut up," she growled, and when she saw him shrink back she sighed and grabbed him into her, listing to him sob.

"You're a fucking mess Clarence," she muttered, stroking his hair and letting him lean into her. "What am I gonna do with you."

Fuck!" She hissed as Castiel pinned her down harder, his lips trailing her neck as he thrusted into her. His periodic thrusts were more sex driven than love; though she appreciated that Castiel changed his shtick. But when he wrapped his arms around her and the way he kissed her, it reminded her of how Cas used to be.

Of the angel he once was, the Seraph warrior created to destroy her.

Her legs wrapped around his thin hips and her nails running down his scruff, she screamed as the orgasm came, Castiel releasing his grip on her, gasping

His eyes were stone and his face showed no emotion. Which was a bit of a drag. Meg had given him what he would have wanted years ago.

"Seriously?"

"I've been at this a bit longer," he growled. "You've been dead."

"Rude."

He sighed. "Again, however…"

She cut him off with another kiss, feeling a moan rumble in his throat. When he finally calmed down he somehow managed to let her seduce him again, let him carry her while tasting the soft of her tongue and the claw of her nails in his scalp.

"I want you to say it, Clarence," she said as they broke apart, looking up at him with stern brown eyes. "Tell me you missed me."

He raised himself up, balancing on his elbows and looking down at her. "Why?"

"Say it."

"Did you?"

"What?"

"Miss me, Meg?"

She rolled on her side, wanting to ignore his question.

"Meg?"

"Yeah, I missed you. Missed the good fucks you gave. Though I more miss the wings that aren't Kotex."

He scoffed and rolled away from her, burying his face in his arm to try and show her he wasn't interested in her new topic.

He felt her nails first, scratching over his back to flattening out to finger tips running over his scars on his front. He moaned as she practically massaged over his rigid skin.

"What are you-"

"You never told me about them; how you got them, how you lost your Tampax Pearl."

"A fire. it's why the Letters and I are on bad terms."

"What, did you burn down the bunker?"

She saw him build a wall, not wanting to talk about it. "Fine. Be that way," she muttered, getting up from his floor to get in his bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to sleep, since I do that now."

He stood up, surprisingly not uncomfortable with his nakedness, though his arms went over his scars protectively. He walked over to the opposite side of his bed and slid in.

"You want me to hit the couch?"

She was surprised to feel warm arms slide around her body, Castiel pulling her close to his front and pressing his stubbled cheek against her neck.

"I want you to stay."


	4. Let Me Love

**So sorry for the late update, but I'vebeen having computer issues and welp. **

* * *

The next few days seemed to bring change and a sort of easiness to Castiel. Meg had discovered tricks to his weird little quirks; cooking when he was out or asleep, keeping him as far away from larger bodies of water, and avoided eyeing those burn scars as well as other strange habits he picked up and he seemed to try and keep himself from going off the deep end.

There was sex, fights, sex, more fighting, make-up sex. They seemed to find their little slot in the world that called them freaks and fallen gods.

Somehow Meg enjoyed seeing Castiel change. He was starting to crack away that shell of fallen depressed angel and emerging a new beast, which overall was better than the depressed sack of meat she;d been dealing with the past week since she'd returned. (She'd also seemed o help cure his separation anxiety by leaving him home and finding a job to at least get some rent in).

Though she was always brought back to those scars. She'd gotten to know the patchwork webbing intimately and she knew he was concerned with how deformed they made him, so much so that he barely owned anything that didn't go below the elbows. He had flipped out one night when she unconsciously touched them, just simply brushing her hands over them would end up making him cringe and shake away.

She was sure he wasn't doing it deliberately, maybe it was some psychological thing he had buried inside his head. But when he was on full panic mode she'd learn that she should just let him calm down on his own.

So she was surprised when he he me her at the door of the tiny apartment, looking alive and fresh for the first time in months, she had to stare at him to see if he was real. He had shaved, no longer looking rumpled as usual and actually managing to look decent in a suit and tie.

"What's the occasion, Clarence?" she eyed him up and down, amused at how…different this all was.

"I thought we should go out to dinner," he said, scratching at the small coverage of scars that lined his cheek. "We haven't left the apartment-"

"Correction, _you_ haven't left the apartment," she smirked. "If you haven't noticed, I've actually been paying for you."

"I know. Thats why I want to take you," he smiled sadly, almost looking so small and shattered and Meg knew this had taken a lot for him o even bring up. "Please?"

"Alright." _Best to at least humor him_.

—

He had picked some semi formal place just outside of town, making sure to tell her of the times Sam and Dean had taken him there after a hunt, how it held both good and bad memories, and how overall he missed not having to eat. Sh was amused at how much more open he was today, how he didn't panic over the sight of his scars, and how he seemed so much more able to hold a conversation.

This was her Castiel, her cause, and she felt some strange swell of pride over him.

"So you never told me," she said, lifting her wine glass to hr lips and taking a drink."How'd you really get the scars?"

"A fire at the bunker. Almost destroyed the archives completely."

Was this after Sam and Dean got offed?"

"Yeah, shortly after. I would have probably died if Kevin didn't save me."

She eyed him. "Why do I sense some bit of animosity?"

"I was burning to death. This whole nightmare would have been over with," Meg watched his eyes dart from her to the table. "That night you came back wasn't the first time I tried to die, Meg. Every time I almost succeed, almost get to have my 'soul' ripped from me; I'm interrupted. I've tried to die. But I can't."

"So we'll die together."

She watched his head snap back up and stare at her. "What?"

"Why not? Go out with a bang. We don't belong Clarence. We're faceless gods walking among men. And what's better than this alce? anywhere."

" I couldn't let you do that Meg…"

"Good. Then neither of us are gonna go around killing ourselves. Glad we got that settled."

He tilted his head before giving her a sort of amuse smile, looking like he did years ago. "I understood what you just did."

"Good,she grabbed his tie, yanking him towards her and kissing him over the table. When they broke apart she leaned back and downed the last of her wine. "Take me home Cas. I wanna see what else you were planning on tonight."

—

Any plans were muttered by a quick stop at the bar across from the apartment complex, followed by drunken walk home and the occasional stops to kiss certain words from one anothers faces. They'd found themselves pinned to the end of the elevator, ignoring the angry shouts for them both to get out by singling their focus on one another,forgetting the world and focusing only on one another.

When they finally reached their tiny room, time was a blur while they struggled off their clothes while keeping their lips connected, Castiel showering her with need and want, and Meg meeting him with fire against his ice.

Her hands when to his scarred chest and instead of shrinking away she felt him press closer to her, his own hands wanting to touch her, waning to feel her all over, as if he wanted to be sure she wouldn't break if he left his hands in one spot for too long. Meg wasn't sure what had opened this Castiel but she was sure she wanted him, looking past the worn vessel and seen the grace filled angel once again. Something changed in him.

He was happy. For the first time in months, Castiel seemed to actually want her round, letting her touch him, letting her feel him and be near him. _Letting her love him_.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her ear, his face flush against hers as he stroked her.

"Shh," Meg whispered back, letting him touch her and feel her. "Put up and Shut up, Clarence."

And damn if he did.


	5. Let Me Dream

_The bunker wasn't supposed to burn._

_But the demons had scratched their way into the walls, managed to find a way to set the archives ablaze._

_He felt the panic the flames brought his human mind; how the deep human fear of fire was almost overpowering his other instincts both human and angel._

_With a battle cry he shoved his old sword deep into a demon's neck, giving Charley time to carry other weak survivors while Kevin fought to save as much as he could. _

_It was only seconds since the fire started but to Castiel it felt like an eternity; fear growing ever more as bookshelves burned and splintered, and with smoke-clouded eyes Castiel made his way to tear the former prophet from the shelves._

_"You need to go!" Kevin hissed, coughing as he swatted out the embers with his jacket._

_"Kevin…"_

_"Go!"_

_"Damn it," at the second the shelves began to collapse Castiel jerked Kevin back by the collar of his shirt, the former angel's strength a bigger match than his and with a quick shove Kevin was staggering back, just missing the massive splinter of wood and the sound of falling books._

_The next thing Castiel knew was waking in a hospital, black, charred burns covering forty percent of his upper body and several fractured ribs and bones. They said they had no idea how he crawled out of that fire, and later found that Kevin abandoned him under the shelves to finally die._

_But he was alive, attached to the IV and heart monitor and praying to go home._

_I wanna go home. Let me go home._

_Home._

He shook out of his daze when the sound of a car horn blared by, wind and leaves flying round him and he buried his hands deeper into his coat.

The winter air had finally come and Castiel was once again an active participant in the world, a thing which included late night shopping and long walks back to his apartment.

He remembered how he used to make runs like this in Lebanon, how he would walk to the stores and buy groceries for the Letters and run out and get food. It was what made him appreciate small towns and open walkways, and even in the chilly air he found himself enjoying the dark night.

Fiddling with his keys in one pocket he made his way to the front of the complex, other hand running over a small paper box before he unlocked the door, sighing and making his way to the stairs.

_Exercise is good for humans. Even broken ones_.

He found each step seemingly lighter as he jogged towards his apartment, still hating the six story climb but damn if he wasn't itching with an excitement he hadn't felt in years.

_I should be happy. I am happy_.

When he finally got his key in door he was greeted by warm hands and soft kisses, feeling instant warmth to his wind chilled skin

"That was a nice greeting," he muttered when she finally pulled away.

"You have food," Meg muttered, snatching the fast food bag from his hands. "Don't be so shocked, Scarface." It was strange how they both feel into domesticity here, Meg was her old self but softer, the hard of a demon and the need for survival was softened by the soul of a human. He found that he still loved her like this, and maybe even more so. He didn't even mind the way she made fun of him anymore, not even flinching at the new nicknames she gave him.

It took everything to get him here. He had even started lighting candles in the apartment, indulged in decorating the apartment and actually having a home.

It was a good life, and he was happy. Probably the happiest he'd been.

Sliding off his coat and sitting beside her on the couch he smiled as he watched her toss him a burger, eyeing her eat hungrily and flick on the television.

"Who takes an hour to get fucking fast food?" she muttered when she noticed him watching her.

"It as a long walk. You could have driven me."

"I had to take care of something and didn't need you around for it."

"What were you doing?"

"Lady stuff."

Castiel took a bite. "Lady…stuff?"

"Cycles, Cas. Day two. Not pretty."

"Oh," he wasn't sure how exactly how that needed him out to go and get dinner instead of cooking, but he learned long ago that it was best to respect her needs and wishes.

"But what, did you fall asleep on your way home?"

"I…had to get something. Something important."

Meg quirked an eyebrow, amused. "Oh?"

She watched him turn to face her, a warm smile on his lips that made his vessel look years young. It was that smile he gave her when they made love, the smile he had when he gave into her wants, the same stupid ass smile he used always before he kissed her.

"Meg," he whispered, grabbing her hands in his and ignoring the uncomfortable way she eyed him. "You've saved my life. You've been a friend, a lover, my companion…"

"Get on with it Clarence, missing Breaking Bad here."

"I want you as my mate," he blurted out, blue eyes looking away from her before focusing back. "That's why I was late, I was…"

"Thinking about…this."

"Yes. This. I-I love you, Meg."

"Do you understand what you're proposing, Castiel," Meg winced. "No pun intended."

"I want this. I want this permanent."

"You know that labeling our little agreement doesn't make it that."

"It does with us," he fished the small box from his coat pocket, sliding it into her hands. "Please."

Meg scoffed. "You're gonna beg now?"

"If that's what it takes."

"None of that fancy bullshit?"

Castiel shrugged. "Not if you don't want it. Plus," he rolled back against the couch, eyes shifting from her to the TV. "We don't have friends to invite anyway."

"Then…yeah. Why the fuck not?"

She turned her face just to have her lips collide with his, Castiel touching her and brushing up against her. In the few months they've spent together she'd sworn she'd never seen him happier.

"What about last names?"

"We don't have those."

"Doesn't mean we can't make some up," she muttered, lifting off her shirt and watching Castiel undress himself as well. "You're so dumb sometimes."

"I wouldn't have fallen for a demon if I was smart," he countered, kissing her hard and not even flinching when she ran her hands over his scars. "Though I never did have that label anyway."

"Thats a good thing?"

"Yeah. I suppose it is."

—

Pressed against Castiel's chest as they laid against the worn couch, Meg kept her eye on the trashcan that stood against the door of the tiny bathroom, Castiel's snored loud and his proposal earlier only making the bile in her stomach churn harder.

She felt herself panic, worrying about Castiel waking in the middle of the night and seeing what she buried under piles of toilet paper, imagining his anger or confusion, how it could set him back to the broken this she'd found trying to hang himself or force her out.

She was human. She was defenseless. She had a secret she couldn't keep.

As if sensing her discomfort, Castiel tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck before dozing again.

It only made her worse.

_Need to get out. Need out_.

Slipping out of his hold she dressed herself and grabbing her pre packed bag from earlier she made her way to the door, sending one last look to he sleeping Castiel before quietly opening the door, cursing herself for making such a stupid mistake.

_I'm so sorry. I love you too, and I'm sorry_.


End file.
